


Maybe Tomorrow...

by callmeb



Category: Linkin Park
Genre: Friendship/Love, M/M, Pick Your Pairing, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-14
Updated: 2013-08-14
Packaged: 2017-12-23 11:13:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/925720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmeb/pseuds/callmeb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Baby?" "Yeah?" "I think I love you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe Tomorrow...

**Author's Note:**

> No names given. Pick your pairing.

“Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“Does being in love make the sex better?” he asks as he lifts his hips to let the man above him pull his boxers down.

“Does asking me that make the sex better?” his friend retorts, sliding his own boxers down and tossing them both to the side of the bed where two shirts already sit before laying himself atop the slender man again.

“… Maybe,” he smiles.

_Such a cute smile,_ the other man thinks.

“I wonder what it feels like to be in love…” he pauses before continuing his thoughts out loud, “How do you know if you’re in love if you don’t know how it feels?” He shivers slightly as deft hands move slowly up his bare chest and tangle loosely in his messy locks.

“I think you just know,” the other man replies. He presses his lower half against the man’s below him, eliciting a soft moan.

“But what if you think you’re in love but you’re really not? How do you tell?”

“I don’t know, baby. I guess you just have to take risks if you think that you are.” His friend seems to juggle the answer in his head for a moment before accepting it for the night.

“Oh.” He shrugs slightly and moves his hands to the other mans hips, holding them softly and moaning again when he feels their lower halves grinding against each other again.

“Do you like when I do that, baby?” He repeats his actions again, the throaty moans like music to his ears.

“Yes,” the other replies, suddenly short of breath.

The man above him captures his lips in a kiss before he can ask another question. They move their lips slowly, softly, with their eyes closed and in no hurry to stop for breath. It seems to last several minutes before they pull their mouths away and the man on his back leans his head against the pillows and to one side, eyes still shut. His friend’s lips immediately move to his tanned neck, kissing, licking, and sucking at his soft spots. He knows the body of his slender friend better than that of his own, his fingers running across the firm chest and hitting more soft spots on his body. The man below him moans again in pleasure, loving the way his friend can read his body like Braille.

“Baby? What would you call us?” he asks, squeaking the last word out as his friend sucks on a particular soft spot of his neck harshly.

“What do you want me to call us?” the other asks, moving his lips down to nip at the collarbone.

“I want to hear what you think, not what I want you to think.”

“Like always,” he mutters to himself, then clears his throat to answer, “I would call us best friends. You?” he asks as his long, slender fingers move to his friend’s erection, coaxing it to further arousal. His fingers are gently holding his band member’s length, sliding slowly up and down the long, thick shaft.

“Mmm… I would call us-ohhh…” he stumbles with his words for a moment. “I would call us best friends with benefits,” he finishes with a content sigh.

_I know,_ the other thinks to himself.

“Baby? Would that feel even better if we were in love?”

“Maybe. Do you wish we were in love?” His fingers are still light. His hand is still moving slowly while his lips continue to work on the man’s chest, making his nipples hard.

“… Maybe…” he sighs again, running his fingers through the short hair of the man above him. He smiles at the quiet answer of the man below him, always loving it, yet always hoping that one day, the answer would be a yes instead. _Maybe next time…_ he thinks as he tightens his grip slightly on the tanned man’s arousal.

After hearing several more delightful moans from the warm body below him, he’s sure he himself can’t get any harder. He sits up, removing his hand from the hard member below him, and reaches out to retrieve the bottle of lotion waiting at the bedside table.

He sinks back down onto the tense body, straddling his upper thighs, and pops the cap of the bottle. He hears another soft sigh from his friend and can feel strong fingers slowly massaging his own thighs and ass. He smiles again when he sees his friend with a pleasurable and content look on his face, his eyes still closed and his mouth partly open as he waits for more pleasure to come. The man sitting upright leans down quickly to peck the parted lips before squeezing a generous amount of lotion onto his hand. He closes the bottle and tosses it to the floor, then wraps his hand around the fat arousal of his friend and coats every inch of it.

“God, that’s cold,” he gasps at the contact.

“Sorry.”

“No you’re not. You always do that,” the man pouts, sticking out his lower lip. _I don’t know if I love that pouting lip or that surprised gasp more…_

“Hah. Then you should have expected it by now, baby.” He smiles when the man below him opens his eyes just long enough to roll them. _His big, beautiful eyes…_

He quickly shakes the thoughts from his mind, and removes his hand from the now slick member in front of him. He wipes the remaining lotion from his hand onto the sheets before placing both hands on either side of his long-time friend’s head and lifts his body up. The other man quickly opens his eyes to watch, moving his hands to the bony hips above him.

_Guess he loves to watch this part,_ the lighter-skinned man concludes, realizing his friend always open his eyes for this. The thought brings a smile to his face, while the hands on his hips guide the lower half of his body up and he hovers there for a moment when the tip of his friend’s engorged member presses lightly against his puckered hole.

He can feel eyes watching his face intently for any signs of pain while his own eyes are now closed and the hands slowly lower his body onto the rigid arousal, sliding it as far in as possible. He lets out a sigh once he is sitting flat atop his friend again, feeling the member pulsating inside his tight body.

The darker man groans in pleasure, loving the way no matter how many times they do this, his friend is always as tight as the first time.

“You alright, baby?” he questions, his eyes yet to leave the other man’s thin face. He shortly wonders if his best friend has been eating much and makes a quick mental note to pay more attention starting the next day, then focuses back on the present and smoothly massages the fragile-looking hips where his hands rest.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” The thin man replied with a soft smile on his face. _He always sounds so calm. So peaceful… it always makes me smile,_ he thinks.

“Have you ever fallen in love?” he asks as soon as he feels his friend’s body relax atop him and begin moving in a slow grinding motion.

“Mmm… yea. Uhhmmff… I think so,” he half answers, half moans. The man on top can’t wipe the smile off his face when he hears that question. His best friend always asks that question. In fact, he asks all the same questions. At night when they have sex, which is just about every night. And in the day sometimes, too. As he lifts his body up and slowly pushes back down repeatedly, he wonders if this type of conversation is what his friend gets off on. Not once does he remember the man below him ever asking these questions unless they were in a bed, stripping each other and having sex. They’d never had rough sex, he realizes as he slams himself down slightly hard, but still slowly and he moans at the feel of his friend’s member hitting his prostate dead-on.

He moves his hands from the side of his friend’s head to his chest, slowly scraping his nails down hard enough only for the skin to turn a light pink. He notices that his friend’s eyes are closed once again, as small pearls of sweat begin to appear on his forehead.

_No,_ he returns to his thoughts, _we never_ have _had rough sex._ It wasn’t what either of the two men were looking for when they first started this. He didn’t really want to either. _I like what we have. Rough sex isn’t really my thing, I guess._

He then decides to focus back on the body below him. He feels like he’s almost memorized the feeling of taut muscles sliding under smooth skin as his friend begins to massage his neglected member. He loves the way his friend feels inside him. He loves the way his friend’s rough, calloused hand feels on his arousal. He loves the way his friend’s muscles move swiftly under his own hands.

“Who do you think you fell in love with?” the bigger man asks, continuing their conversation in a pleasure-filled voice.

_You._

“Someone I know,” he answers, ignoring his thoughts.

“Do I know them, too?”

He smiles, noticing the avoidance of gender. _Just like always._

“Yes.”

“Does the sex seem better with them if you think you love them?”

The question seems to hang in the air as the pale man mulls over an answer in his head, wondering if he should answer the same way he had the night before. It was the same question after all.

Deciding to try a different answer he replies, “I’d never had sex with them and not thought I loved them.”

“If love is so great, then I think it should make the sex better.”

“Why is that, baby?” he asks as he continues to slowly ride his best friend. He thinks for a moment about how they can always have this exact same conversation. Have it whilst having sex, no less, and have enough breath to moan out constantly between questions yet still speak so clearly to one another.

He knows the answer to his question even before the words slip from his friend’s parted lips.

“Because then people will want to fall in love, not just have sex. Just for it to feel better. Not that it doesn’t feel good now, though.” He tells his friend the last part, so he doesn’t think otherwise. “I think this feels good. I think this feels _great_ , actually. Like it can’t _possibly_ feel any better. But I wonder if it could. Can it?” he asks the man above him.

His eyes are finally open again, locking with the strong-colored eyes of his friend as he comes closer to his climax, still loving the slow, steady movements of the body riding him right into pleasure and the tights walls around him.

“If I told I thought I loved you, do think this would feel better?” he asks, refusing to break eye contact.

“Maybe…,” he thinks for a second before continuing, “if you actually meant it, then I think it might.”

“Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I love you.”

He could feel his friend’s hands tightening around his arousal at those words, just like always. And just like always, his friend is the one to break eye contact by shutting them tightly and thrusting up into the man above him. He is coming close to his release and that is where their conversation usually dies down for the night.

“I think,” he starts, but stops for a moment to focus on his friend’s leaking member. “I think that if you meant that, then that means I’m right and it can’t feel better,” he finishes, referring to his statement made minutes before.

Before the slim man can reply to his friend’s statement, both of them reach their climax, the darker one releasing himself into his friend’s tight body and the one on top making a mess on his friend’s hand and stomach. Neither of them cares about the mess as they calm their breathing and share another gentle kiss. The thinner man lowers himself to lay completely flat on top of his friend, neither of them wanting the feeling of pure bliss to end. The darker man’s now flaccid member is still deep inside his lean friend and neither move for that contact to stop.

Finally, the man regains his breath enough to reply to his friend’s last statement.

“Does that mean that you think you love me, too?” He knows it’s too late for his question to be answered, and tells himself to start asking that before they both reach climax.

“Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“Good night.”

He sighs at his friend’s words both in content and disappointment. Content in the situation of being able to lay comfortably with his best friend. Disappointment that his dark, well-toned friend has yet to answer his question.

Every time he gets to ask that question, he gets the same answer. _Or lack thereof,_ he says in his mind. He’d managed to get to ask the same question the night before, but of course too late to expect an answer. And the night before last was the same. And the night _before_ that, too. If the two friends weren’t having sex, then there was no way he was going to get an answer.

As he listens to the dull thud of his friend’s heart beating and feels his own head move up and down with his friend’s chest, he tells himself not to worry. After all, they had plenty more nights to have this exact same conversation. “Like always,” he whispers, realizing his best friend is already fast asleep beneath him.

_Oh well,_ he thinks to himself. _Maybe tomorrow…_

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first fic written 6 years ago on lpfiction.com. I cleaned up minor grammar errors, but I was only a teenager at the time so bear with me. Thanks for reading!


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